About Constantime

Born In a log cabin my parents were great providers of food and drink. Not a day went by when father would return from the Coat factory ,from which I was named, and smelling of Moxie and ink he would sit me upon his lap and read me verses from Emerson.

While my father read in his slow methodical voice that would soothes the wolves that often stared at us through the windows of glass and newspaper, my mother would be in the kitchen area of our cabin boiling the plastic off of the plastic flamingos my father often brought home on his way back from the factory. He believed he was providing meat for the family, little did he know that the amounts of iron, plastic and pink dye we consumed would eventually succeed in killing me.
My death at the age of seven was pleasant as could be expected the plastic and dye had formed a small egg in my stomach, not unlike a female uterus, this egg of plastic and pink would eventually hatch in my stomach, creating my first child Tim.
Tims creation would cause him to be expedited through my bowels destroying my colon and rectum killing me in a ten hour seizing mount of pain. Tim was born looking like a small steel cage with a solid gold canary with in it. This Canary would eventually be melted down to help our family through the Depression. I witnessed his birth in my ascension to heaven while mighty angels sung of bounties and blood. Heaven being as bleak and cumbersome as I thought I would eventually return to my body after several years.
By this time my family had left me to the wolves at the windows and they had there way with me birthing my next and final child Lexicon, a twisted wolf creature that sweated mercury and tasted of coconut. Ice would form in its spittal when ever it growled at Tim and I.
I eventually carried my children to Pittsburgh to work in the steel industry, we fit in perfectly in the pollution and smog of the city. Where the rust would eventually grow on my brain giving birth to my name Constantime. My children were eventually melted down to iron girders around the city, there they sit alone and cold never knowing love.